


Swept Away

by Issiekay



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bulges and Nooks, First Time, M/M, Xeno, slight divergence from canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2014-03-16
Packaged: 2018-01-15 22:01:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1320718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Issiekay/pseuds/Issiekay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Karkat Vantas and you’re caught off guard when you first meet John.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swept Away

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Peixesgal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peixesgal/gifts).



> Happy birthday, you! Here's some JohnKat.
> 
> I am really sorry for the lack of plot. Kind of escaped me there, but I tried.
> 
> Enjoy!

Your name is Karkat Vantas and you’re caught off guard when you first meet John. 

Honestly, it’s still not clear what you were expecting John to be like, but it certainly wasn’t this. He stands a good half foot taller than you at what you would estimate to be at least six feet. His face has changed since you last took a look at him through the viewport. When Dave’s face had begun to slim down, he explained to you that he’d lost something called baby fat and even though you’re still not quite sure what that is or what purpose it serves; John doesn’t seem to have any of it left either. Where his face used to be soft and round, it’s become sharp and angular. While Dave has started to grow patchy hair on his face, John’s chin and upper lip are devoid of any of the ridiculous human facial hairs. 

You’re somehow relieved. 

He already looks so different from what you remember. While you’d seen Rose and Dave age for a little less than a sweep and thirteen perigees, John and Jade going through the same transformation never occurred to you. 

You haven’t changed nearly as much as the humans have. You suppose that this is because their lifespans are far shorter than your race’s, but you have no idea how long you’ll live. It’s entirely possible that one of them will outlive you, and this thought makes you panic. What if you’ve matured as much as you ever will? From what Dave has told you, they’re not quite done with their human puberties. It seems as if they each have another two sweeps or so to develop before they can properly be called adults of their species. 

Each of your friends has gained a few inches in height where you’ve only gained one and a half. Your irises haven’t even begun to fill in with color and while everyone that’s left knows about your blood at this point, you still haven’t come to terms with it. You’re glad that your eyes are still pitch black. The difference between you and the others hasn’t stopped there; their horns have shed a few layers and grown in size as well. You’ve shed a layer or two of chitin yourself, but they’re still the exact same size as they were when you were five. You know, you’ve measured.

You are an utter disgrace of a troll and yet John stares at you with what you interpret to be a look of disbelief. You stare back and the silence stretches for a few tense minutes. One of you has to be the one to break the pause and you’ve got a distinct feeling that it won’t be him.

So you open your mouth.

“Hey,” tumbles out and there’s an instant pang of regret in your gut. Is that really what you’ve chosen to say after not speaking for so long? You’re frozen for a few seconds, hanging on the edge of a panic attack. It doesn’t come.

“Hey,” he says back, breaking into an easy smile. “So this is you, huh? I mean, I don’t know what I thought you’d look like, I guess I just pictured you being… bigger.” There’s a bit of a taunting lilt in his words and you go from wanting to punch yourself in the face to wanting to punch his. 

“Oh yeah?” you answer back, “You haven’t lived up to my standards of human males either. Strider’s clearly taller.” It’s a lie, but he won’t know that for a while, perhaps half an hour at the earliest. It gets the reaction you think you were looking for, John looks dejected. It occurs to you that he’s never actually seen a troll in real life before now and you learned the hard way that dreambubbles could differ from reality. 

“I’m really glad to meet you, you know. It’s been a lonely three years without you telling me exactly how I screw up everything I touch.” You know he’s joking, but there’s still a feeling of insecurity churning in the pit of your stomach. It’s been a while since you’ve been feeling this inexplicably anxious and every instinct is telling you to abscond, to turn away and seek comfort. Instead, you force yourself to keep going.

“Yeah, well, the rest of you had to sail up eventually and ruin the fun times we were having without you.” Oh god, you can’t stop it. “We would have been just fine without you jackasses showing up.”

“Come on, no you wouldn’t. I bet you missed me.” John grins easily, his head tilted slightly to the right. “Aren’t you going to give me a hug?”

You do after letting out a deep sigh. He has to lean down a bit to properly wrap his arms around you and it’s a bit ridiculous. Regardless, you melt into his chest, holding him tightly. His embrace feels like finally coming home after a long night outside. Without realizing it, you let out a soft chirp. He immediately begins laughing, ruffling your hair.

“This is why I can’t take you seriously, you get so mad sometimes and then you go and make a noise like that. That’s adorable, dude.” You’re flushing up to the tips of your ears.

“It is not, fuck you. It’s completely involuntary and frankly, embarrassing.” He just laughs softly and continues to hold you. “I really missed you, you know.”

“Yeah, I know.” You barely manage to bite back a sardonic response and instead, you just enjoy the feeling of his body against yours.

You’re approaching the new session, but it can’t come soon enough. 

\---

You last a whole two days, to your credit, before making a move on John.

You know how to kiss a human, you've practiced. It was tricky to understand at first, you couldn't quite grasp how to keep your admittedly blunt fangs away from his lips and tongue. While your teeth wouldn't come close to breaking troll skin, something you know to be fact, you've learned that humans are much more fragile than you once thought. John, on the other hand, has no idea how to kiss a troll and perhaps he doesn’t know how to kiss at all. It briefly crosses your mind that perhaps you’ve both kissed different iterations of the same person and you quickly shove the thought away almost as soon as it comes into your head. He tries to lick across your teeth and cuts his tongue open, exactly what you were trying to avoid. He pulls back, swearing twice and dabbing at the small wound with his fingers. 

“Dude, what the hell? They’re sort of like mine, how can they be so much sharper when they look so dull?” There’s a frown on his lips and you feel your bloodpusher seize up. It isn’t your fault, but you can’t help but feel entirely responsible. “Alright, I should watch the teeth. Good to know!”

“Yeah,” you croak out, wanting nothing more than to have him kiss you senseless. “Sorry about that, they’re pretty deceiving. Totally useless for me, though, I can’t even bite through our skin.” The only response you get is a small chuckle and the blissful feeling of his soft lips pressed against yours. 

He has his hands on your waist and while it’s entirely cliché and you feel ridiculous, you loop your arms around his neck. Once more he attempts to lick across your teeth and he’s actually successful. He’s still leaning down so that he can kiss you properly and you don’t even feel insecure about your height at this point. Lurid fantasies play in your mind and you’re trying your hardest not to get ahead of yourself, not to spook him. John’s hands stray down to the top of your ass, cupping the flesh he’s able to reach without bending over any more than he already is. You gasp into the kiss and you can feel him smile against your lips. 

Smug bastard.

You pull away from John and press your hands against his chest, walking him back against the wall. He’s got one well-groomed eyebrow raised, curious as to what you’re trying to do. It seems that he thought he was the one in charge and while you’re agreeable to that, he doesn’t get to dictate everything. There’s a moment of hesitation before you press your body flush against his, leaning up on the tips of your toes so you’re able to reach his mouth. To his credit, he meets you halfway, pushing down on your shoulders and returning your feet to the floor. After a few seconds it’s clear that the nature of the kiss has changed from innocent and exploratory to insistent and demanding and your lower stomach prickles with the first few touches of arousal. There’s something physically hard against your lower stomach as well and it takes you just a bit longer than it should have to realize that he’s feeling the same arousal that you are. 

You also know what a human dick is like, having seen a myriad of crude pictures that Dave insisted on drawing and leaving around the meteor, the most explicit ones often deposited where he knew that you would find them. You’d also walked in on him recently, perhaps four or so perigees ago. He’d been mortified and yelled at you to get out but you couldn’t help but stare before you turned around and shut the door. You distinctly remember how solid and flushed it had been, and to your surprise, absolutely still. While you’d really wished you hadn’t seen him like that, you’re grateful now; you won’t be completely caught off guard.

John’s hands are roaming your body, sliding down your waist and then back up to your face. He kisses you particularly hard, biting down on your bottom lip and a shudder runs through your spine. Your bulge is frantically trying to unsheathe itself inside your pants and for the first time in a long while, you, Karkat Vantas, want.

“Fuck, John, I need you.” 

“Me too,” he returns after sucking in a breath. “I just… I don’t really know what I’m doing? I have no idea if you do, but I definitely don't.” He’s smiling sheepishly, shifting his hips against you. 

“I don’t,” you reassure him, your hand slipping in between your bodies to grasp his erection. He hisses through his teeth and presses into your hand, head turning to the side. “Why don’t we figure this out, then?” John nods, tilting his hips forward again. You squeeze your hand around him and he nudges you back and eases his pants down. 

He’s wearing white briefs and you barely hold back a laugh. While you’d never really thought of what kind of underwear John wore, it fits his personality. Not even a second later, you’re distracted from your thoughts when he begins stroking himself through the fabric. Your breath hitches and he smiles shyly. He nods at you and you get the sense that he wants you to take yours off as well. Your hands go to the button of your jeans and you hesitate.

“Um,” you start, fiddling with the metal clasp nervously. “Are you sure? We’re really different, I don’t want to freak you out.” He just shrugs, still palming himself. 

“I mean, you’re not freaking out over me, so that’s a start?”

“No, I mean…” You run a hand through your hair, not meeting his eyes. “I’ve seen Strider’s, I know what’s in your pants, but you’ve got no idea what’s in mine.” This earns you a head tilt to the side and a mildly confused look.

“You saw Dave’s?” he asks, hand straying from his cock.

“It was one time and an accident, I didn’t mean to, but I did, yeah. It freaked me out at first but then I got over it.”

“So why wouldn’t I get over it too?” He has a point, you have to acquiesce. “I think you guys have a nook or a bulge? I have no idea if it’s one or the other and even then who has what, but it can’t be that bad. Just show me?” Fingers trembling, you nod and unzip your jeans. They slip down your skinny legs to the floor around your ankles and you know that your face is absolutely red. Without the denim restricting it anymore, your bulge unsheathes and begins to curl around itself, seeking friction.

John stares. Each second he’s silent weighs heavily on you and just when you’re sure you’re going to begin hyperventilating, he strips his shirt off and steps forward, tentatively reaching for your bulge. You lift a hand and stop him. 

“Hang on, let’s just get the underwear out of the way and figure out what the fuck we’re about to get into first.” Summoning all of your courage, you push down your boxers. For a moment you feel as if you’ve really accomplished something, but then you realize that you’ve squeezed your eyes shut. You tried, you really did, but the vortex in the pit of your stomach is sucking you in and this time, you do start to hyperventilate. You’re gasping for air and the world feels as if it’s crashing down on you.

“Shit,” he whispers, embracing you tightly. To your horror, your bulge wraps neatly around his protruding cock and you both make an embarrassing noise. “O-okay, you’re alright, fuck, that’s nice, just take a deep breath.” 

He walks you back against the reclining concupiscent platform and unceremoniously dumps you onto it. The best you can do is insult him and complain, but you don’t even bother. You’re both into this and you want him so badly. John leans down and kisses you deeply.

That’s when it happens. Without any warning, your bulge suddenly finds its way into your nook, twisting and curling into the wet flesh. Your head tips back, mouth falling open in a silent scream and your eyes squeeze shut. A trill slips out and you’re consumed by the feeling of being overwhelmed, like being swept underwater by a wave that you had no business going near. The arousal in the pit of your stomach has intensified and another whimpering noise comes from your throat and you don’t even realize it’s you who made that sound for a second or two. Slowly, your bulge is pressing deeper and deeper and you dig your claws into John’s shoulder, right through his thin skin.

“Ow, Karkat!” he hisses, immediately removing your hands from his shoulders. You’re absolutely horrified at what you’ve done, but he assures you that it isn’t that deep and you look. To your relief there are only pinpricks of blood, but it’s still scary. 

You’re entirely fucked up, you think to yourself, as your bulge continues pressing itself into your nook with abandon. By the time that you’re completely inside of yourself, John’s stopped staring and has instead begun to stroke himself. It’s almost laughable how quickly you’ve devolved into a whimpering, dripping mess. 

“That’s really hot,” he remarks, and you flip him off. He’s still staring, the jerk, as you begin to self-pail. You’re gasping in time to your own inadvertent thrusts and it’s almost too much.

“I have honestly, fuck, never hated you as much as I do right now, Egbert.”

“Wrong quadrant, I think,” he supplies cheerfully, “but do you need some help there?”

“No, you nookchafing piece of shit, I’m fine right where I am! Yes, god, get it out of me!” He wraps a hand around the base and you chirp. Slowly, your bulge is removed from your nook and you shudder. Human hands are entirely too soft for their own good. 

“Now what?” He asks, still holding you. “Should we…?”

“Yes,” you respond, shifting your weight slightly. “Please.”

John spreads your thighs and comes a bit closer, the tip of his blunt cock just at the lips of your nook. He keens and scoots forward, pressing into you. You hiss. It’s suddenly become glaringly obvious that your bodies weren’t made for each other and it _hurts_. Your grip on the sheets tightens as he thrusts once, twice. Choking back a sob, your arm covers your eyes and thank the gods you don’t even believe in, he stops.

“Hey, are you alright?” His eyebrows are furrowed and he starts to pull out of you. You reach out and hold him by the hips, not letting him move. 

“Just… let me adjust for a second?” He nods and waits patiently. You can feel yourself fluttering, expanding to fit around him. It doesn’t hurt nearly as much as a minute or two ago and when you nod, he begins to thrust again. You rock back with each thrust and moan, hand straying to touch yourself. 

Neither of you last very long. John comes with a cry, stilling shortly after. You’re about to whine about not finishing when he dips down and takes you into his mouth. You freeze – this is something that’s beyond kinky. Few trolls do this to each other and you honestly thought your only experience with this would be the smattering of dirty videos you watched alone in the wee hours of the afternoon, the sound low so that there was no chance anybody could hear.

You weren’t expecting it to feel like this, so warm, wet and thrilling. He can’t get much of you into his mouth, but the few inches that he can are amazing. He trails his tongue up the underside and that’s it, you come, genetic material gushing out of your nook and flooding the bed. You shove John away from your oversensitive tactile member and tear right through the thin fabric of the sheets. They’re already ruined and you can’t be bothered to hold yourself back. 

There’s a pregnant silence.

“That was pretty great,” you say, and immediately want to smack yourself for it. Instead of answering you, he kisses you tenderly, pulling back only to smile.

“Yeah, it was. And I know this is ridiculously cliché, but… I don’t know if I can say that I love you yet, but I definitely feel… flush? Sort of flushed for you?” 

You’ll take it.

“Sort of flushed for you too, dumbass. Can we get off of this now? Everything’s wet.”

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and while you can’t say you’re in love yet either, it’s a start.


End file.
